Thursday, August 18, 2005

The Oak and the Willow

8/16/05

I am a strong woman.

No matter if the world is stronger than me.

I will hold up as long as I can

under the weight that I bear

under the weight that is added

and if I collapse

there will be forgiveness in my heart

because I made an ant just an ant

and hercules just a man

and I withstood with strength

the best that I could.

I am a strong woman.

Deep Breath in...

Deep Breath in...

Close my eyes...

Smile.

I made it another day.

Sunday, August 14, 2005

Water Color Soul

I want to do more here than whine whine whine. I want to capture the enthusiasm I see when I read the beginning of this blog. But the truth is I'm more often moved to write when I'm upset than when I'm happy, so statistically speaking it is more likely that my misery and sorrow will be chronicled than prettier emotions.

Was I spurred to write this because of less than jubilant feelings....yeah a grey watercolor sadness that can't be washed away.

If you pick the wrong man to fall in love with, you just seem to keep falling until you are floating in a hazy steam of heartbreak.

I want mine back so much, but the man that is, is not the man that was, and I am led by the illusion as if by a mirage in the desert.

Sunday, August 7, 2005

Death

I hit a deer tonight and am still reeling from it. Laced with the shocks of murdering such a large life, whose thudding smack resembles that of a human, im sure, is the shock that is my life that i keep trying to supress because there is nothing i can do to stem the tide of misery that washes away my humanity, grain by grain, wave by wave. My body heaves the emotion of my vehicular crime, and in a mass emesis, heave the emotion of my ultimate crimes against myself, failing in my dream, failing in my place as a savior, failing in the base of humanity, failing to forgive myself...unlike Socrates my list of crimes is long, and there is no one to beg me to escape an unjust system. But there is  no hemlock either, nor rest for the weary soul.

I remember crying over  drowned frog, who my boyfriend at the time bade others to hide from me to prevent the emotion. Butmy emotion and reverence saved it, because it was dying not dead yet. kittens died in my hands a few weeks ago and i couldn't save them. and i cried, and i mourned...there was no resurrection. Then the deer, and i screamed from helpless moment of knowing i would hit it until i brought my car to a halt. The blood is on my hands now.if my words seem dramatic, dramatic  they may be..but that dismissal doesn't lessen the truth of the feeling.

and then in shock i drove to my sisters house, and in that heaving of emotion there was a regurgitation of feeling...the one that i am alone. there is no one at my house to call and tell i will not be home. not completely alone. im am lucky enough to be a my sisters house. a house is not a home. it is shelter. my sister is well meaning but has limitation in nurturing
and i the nurturer and protectress no longer able to nurture and protect.

instead there is so much help i need and frankly over the course of the years ive felt abandoned in a way i wouldn't have been if i had a respectable disease lke cancer or stroke, though mine is no less destructive. and weak. the pain over taking my body is  relapse. it enough to make many people consider that self actio that perpetuates in greek tragedy...ajax, antgone.

t

Thursday, August 4, 2005

42

    *Where is my husband?

     *How can we lose  love?

     *How do you stop loving someone who has disapeared from your life?

     *Why?